N: Shrouded in Darkness
by TheArkFireCorporation
Summary: My name is N. This is my second life. I have no idea as to who I am, nor do I have an image of my personality. All I know is that I must protect Pokemon, and I must do it Nuzlocke.
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Pokemon and I do not intend to infringe any copyright rights.**

**Prologue**

I watched- my eyes glued to the hulking beast that I managed to tame- fall to the ground and crumple into a heap. A surge of horror filled every particle of my body. No! I had just captured him! I can't lose him now!

I lunged forward, wedging myself between the benevolent insect's hyper beam and my friend. Yes, that's it. Friend. Ally. Partner. All Pokemon are one and the same.

The only exception is the violet figure in front of me, poised to shoot with his burly cannons, its malicious smile coating an appreciable portion of his face. I wonder about this one. I can't seem to connect to it.

At that instant, the hyper beam charges into my body like an enraged Tauros sprinting right at me. Pain blinds me for an agonizing length of time, and I'm on the ground before I know it. I've failed. The challenge is over. Everything was over.

"Cease fighting!" I yelled, but my voice came out as whispery rasps.

I looked around the desolated lab. Beakers were strewn all across the floor. The whole place emitted smoke like a giant chimney. I keeled over, coughed, and eventually threw up in the acrid air. My head hit the cold marble like a sledgehammer. I knew it was game over.

I blacked out.


	2. I Again

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Pokemon and I do not intend to infringe any copyright rights.**

**I. Again**

As sunlight streamed through the bedside window, my eyes fluttered open like moth wings. I groggily propped myself up on one arm and surveyed the room. Unmistakably, there was a white note plastered to the planking of the wall.

_Just like last time,_ I thought as I tore the note out. 'Out shopping,' it read, 'Might as well get a Pokemon before you're a teenager! Ha-ha.'

Sure enough, it was happening again. My entire life is déjà vu- like a routine. Every twist, turn, zig, zag I encounter has happened before- I'm sure of it! It's like an old school tape video, playing over and over. Lights, camera, action! Rinse and repeat.

Except I think that it's only happened once. Have I been reincarnated? Or… am I just losing myself completely? Sometimes, when I squeeze my eyes so hard that they hurt, I can remember being a mere toddler. But still I knew… this was the second time for everything. All I have to do is compose myself and try something different this time.

There were a multitude of kids outside, all ten years of age. Backpacks slapped against their spine as they sprinted to Professor Juniper's laboratory. I was twelve now. My parents insisted that I should get a Pokemon. I think I will.

I brushed aside my green hair and shuffled my thin body over to my dresser, where I daintily fitted myself into a multitude of clothing. I stomped down the stairs- a dozen steps in all- and was out of the door in a flash. Keeping a distance from the overeager children, I strode along, gazing absentmindedly out at the scenic landscape of Nuvema Town with my sea blue eyes. Magenta flowers dotted the glistening emerald grass. A Patrat stood on its hind legs, sweeping the land for intruders. Windmills were also strewn about, but N didn't like those. One of my elderly neighbors had tried to climb one as a dare when he was a child, and it didn't end well. I was apprehensive around him for his clumsy gait and nasty temper.

I stopped outside the lab, a sleek, modern building painted white. I heard that they wanted to install fancy lights on the place, but the professor's great-grandfather had opted for this practical design instead. Ten year olds crowded around the entrance, crowing about which Pokemon they wanted.

I closed my eyes between my thumbs and my index finger. Which Pokemon did I choose in my first life? That's right- Oshawott. And… it-it didn't make it.

You see, the customary way for a Pokemon to become defeated is to constantly pummel it until it faints. Within an hour or so in a Pokemon Center, the Pokemon is up and about in no time.

But I do things _Nuzlocke._ I don't want to. Nobody does. It's simply how I operated- it was like I was cursed! Every time my Pokemon is defeated in a battle, it becomes deceased. I will never see it again. I also have a limit of one capture per route. It must be the first Pokemon that I encounter. Nuzlocke is the hardest thing to withstand. Many trainers who have been forced to go with the Nuzlocke route sat in silence, enduring the suffering of loss.

I opened my eyes. All the kids were staring at me, their mouths open in a petite little gape. Professor Juniper waved me over, unfazed.

"Well, come on over!" she called heartily, her eyes gleaming from the excitement of seeing trainers meet up with their first Pokemon

First, I received a handheld device called a Pokedex. I then listened attentively to the brief descriptions the professor gave each Pokemon. I need a Pokemon that can evade any attack. I need a Pokemon that can endure any hardships. I need a fighter. I need someone like me.

I put my hand on the Pokeball containing Snivy, clasped it, and took it as my own. The journey ahead flashed before my eyes.

*Later

As soon as I embarked on my adventure, a burly hiker ran up to me with five Poke Balls. He showed me how to capture Pokemon. I found my first target- a Patrat hiking across the prairie. My pool went up to a grand total of two Pokemon. After vigorous trekking through the fields, training my Pokemon with care along the way, I sprawled onto the gates of Accumula town, exhausted from exertion. I met some of the townsfolk, and that's where I met a feisty guy named Richard. 

"Hey, you! You're a trainer! Let's have a battle!" he shouted at me from across an alleyway, his thick black hair drifting in the breeze. I cringed with fear, but I couldn't resist the urge to battle. He had obtained an Oshawott from the professor, but it was no match for the grass attacks of my Snivy. Razor-sharp leaves peppered the cerulean otter from every which way. I received an appreciable amount of cold hard cash from the guy.

Little did I know that he would become my rival, and that he would later cost me big time in the long run.


End file.
